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Chapter : 43
“…….”
Marianne couldn’t bring herself to speak at first. On the quiet path by the sea, only the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and the wind filled the space between them.
She suddenly realized that the hand holding hers was burning hot—just as intense as the desire in Cedric’s red eyes.
“Cedric, I…”
Marianne struggled to move her lips, guilt weighing heavily on her. But she couldn’t lie to him.
Lowering her head slightly, she said,
“I can’t go back to the North.”
“……Why?”
Cedric’s voice, rough as if he were scratching his throat, carried a mix of sorrow, despair, and faint anger. Marianne held her breath for a moment and then exhaled.
She couldn’t tell him the truth—that she was just an extra, and her duties in the North were already finished. So instead, she said what she thought he could understand.
“Princess Marianne is already dead. But if I appear in the North… the Emperor, and even the Crown Prince, will find a way to attack you, to destroy you.”
“…….”
“You’ve kept me hidden all this time as leverage against the royal family… or you’d fabricate some story to accuse me of treason.”
“Marianne. Look at me.”
A soft, low sigh came, and Cedric called her. Marianne shook her head. If she looked at him, all the control she had struggled to maintain would dissolve.
“I don’t want to be your weakness, Cedric.”
She bit her lower lip and, with a voice barely steady, added firmly,
Cedric, silent for a moment, still wrapped his hot hand around her shoulder. The space between them seemed to shrink.
“Marianne. I’m strong now. Even if the Emperor sends an army, I won’t let them take you from me.”
The words whispered into her ear sent shivers down her spine.
Marianne instinctively stepped back, forcing a smile.
“You can just come see me when you have time. You still have Estelle and—”
“I don’t want to hear that name.”
The moment Estelle’s name came up, Cedric cut her off. His voice grew ice-cold, and Marianne felt her heart sink. That was not the tone of someone hearing the name of a lover or friend—it was something else entirely.
She realized immediately that something was very wrong.
For a moment, she had been distracted by relief, but Cedric remembering the past shouldn’t have happened. He shouldn’t miss her, nor disregard Estelle.
‘Why…? Did I ruin everything?’
She hadn’t intended to wreck the original story. She had only tried to subtly use events from the novel to help Cedric, but the butterfly effect had been too strong.
The realization made her fingertips icy cold.
“……Cedric.”
Marianne clenched her fists beneath her sleeves, trying desperately to persuade him. Her voice trembled, weak and shaky, but she refused to stop speaking.
“I know it hurt that no one cared for you warmly, like an older sister, when you were young. But I like the new life I’ve built here in the South. And…”
But when Cedric’s large hand covered one side of her face, Marianne could no longer speak.
His thumb gently rubbed her lips.
Slowly, she followed the guidance of his hand and lifted her head. She felt as if she were being pinned under the blazing intensity of his red eyes. Her breath caught.
“I don’t need… an older sister. Marianne. I…”
“S-stop right there.”
This time Marianne reached out and covered his mouth. If she let him continue, she feared there would be no turning back.
“Let’s talk tomorrow when we’re both clear-headed, Cedric.”
Though they were both sober, she felt they needed time. But Cedric didn’t agree.
Frowning, he shook his head firmly.
“No. I’ve spent the last five years thinking, over and over. This is my conclusion. I need you. Only now, I can finally breathe properly….”
His desperate, heart-wrenching voice grew thick with emotion. The tears welling in his eyes mirrored the churning sea.
Marianne barely moved her lips. Her head was spinning. She tried to gather her scattered thoughts to speak.
“—Lady Mari? Are you there?”
“Lady Mari?”
The voices of Fabian and Lana calling for her snapped her back to reality. Marianne half-turned and let out a faint sigh, seeing the flickering lanterns in the distance.
“Yes. I’m here.”
When she answered, they hurried over.
“You’ve been gone for quite some time, so we came looking for you.”
“Has it been that long? Are you okay, Lana?”
“Yes! I slept well and feel fine. Here, I brought a shawl. Lady Mari, it’s warm in the day, but the night wind feels strangely cold.”
“I see… Thank you. Cedric, let’s go inside.”
Marianne looked at Cedric, who remained silent and serious as they returned.
Morning came as usual.
It was another bright, summer-like morning. Lana and Fabian had slept deeply and were full of energy.
“Breakfast is ready~”
“Since you drank yesterday, we prepared onion soup and soft bread.”
Marianne, raising her mouth into a small smile, took the tray and thanked them. She hadn’t slept a wink the night before, so her condition was poor—but seeing Fabian’s food gave her a little appetite.
“Oh, this aroma… it already smells delicious even before I taste it.”
Yes, it looks delicious—wait, why are you here?
Marianne frowned at Abélard’s lively voice from in front of her.
“…Abélard, why did you come here instead of eating at your own house?”
“Hehe. It’s rare to enjoy Fabian’s onion soup to the fullest. I couldn’t pass up the chance. Lana, two bowls for me. And three pieces of bread.”
He was already holding a spoon but still talked a lot.
“Fabian, thank you for the meal.”
Marianne shook her head, then awkwardly turned right to offer Cedric the food.
“…Cedric, eat plenty too.”
“Mm.”
Cedric answered briefly and quietly began to eat, his expression calm.
‘I thought he’d come right after waking to continue yesterday’s conversation,’ Marianne thought, glancing at him, then began eating her soup.
Abélard, who had eaten five pieces of bread already, looked between Marianne and Cedric and whispered under his breath, just barely audible:
“Did you two… fight yesterday?”
“…What are you talking about? No, we didn’t.”
Marianne nearly spat her soup at him and glared. Abélard tilted his head, unaware of the near-crisis from the night before.
Just as he was about to ask again, Cedric spoke:
“Marianne. I’ll step out for a moment.”
He set his spoon down and stood, reading her startled expression, and gave a faint smile.
“A message came from the North.”
“Ah, go ahead.”
After Cedric left for the living room, Abélard finally asked openly:
“So… why is the atmosphere so tense?”
“What atmosphere?”
“Last night felt like a summer evening in the South, but now it feels like a winter night in the North.”
Marianne sighed, setting down her glass. She almost spat it at him.
Abélard kept pressing, and memories of last night tried to surface. Marianne shook her head lightly and pointed toward the entrance.
“We didn’t fight, so just go to the troupe. Don’t you have work?”
“It’s the weekend starting today. Ah, Mari… the gem on your ring—”
“Hm?”
Marianne checked her left hand. The ring she always wore was the artifact.
Nothing was wrong. Seeing her suspicious look, Abélard winked as he dropped the last piece of bread into the soup bowl.
“Ha-ha. I thought it was scratched, but maybe I just saw a reflection.”
Marianne was seriously considering splashing him with water when a cold voice behind her startled her.
“……Marianne.”
“Ah! Did you contact the North?”
Cedric nodded. His dark expression suggested the news wasn’t good.
But Cedric’s grim face wasn’t just from the message. Marianne realized a moment later that he was staring at the ring on her left hand as if ready to crush it with his gaze.
“That ring… was it given by the troupe master?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Abélard made a huge “X” with his arms to deny it vigorously, fearing what might happen if it were true.
“Calm down, Cedric. It’s my mother’s heirloom,” Marianne explained. Cedric’s expression softened like a glacier melting in spring.
But then he frowned again and spoke like a sigh, delivering the message from the North.
“The beasts are heading for the castle walls. We need to return immediately.”
“Then we need to go quickly. No need for a magical escort, right…?”
As Marianne hesitated standing, Cedric strode up to her. He took her hand and looked at her with eyes deep and heavy. His lips slowly opened.
“……I’ll return within three days at the latest. By then… you won’t be able to avoid it, Marianne.”
